


there's a sky where we belong

by transpapyrus



Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpapyrus/pseuds/transpapyrus
Summary: It doesn't matter how long they go without talking. Hugh and Geordi will always be friends.A little look into how Hugh and Geordi come back into each other's lives over and over again, until eventually, they just don't leave.
Relationships: Hugh | Third of Five/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 32
Kudos: 48





	1. 2379

**Author's Note:**

> This fic, alternately titled "I can't NOT post my un-proofed writing in the middle of the night", is a series of scenes detailing various moments in the lives of Hugh and Geordi, showing how their worlds entwine and they manage to come together. It is a bit of a slow-burn relationship, but we won't see all the development because I'm trying to just hit key moments.(This is also my first time writing Geordi. Be gentle.) 
> 
> Do with that as you will, and enjoy!

A loud beeping pulled Hugh from sleep, and he lifted his head up groggily, momentarily confused about where he was. Squinting in confusion, he felt around him, waiting for his eye to adjust. Metal. Oh. He’d fallen asleep at his desk. That explained why his back hurt so much. Hugh glanced over to the side — the sound was coming from his PADD, sitting off to the side. He picked it up, staring at the notification on the screen.

_ ~ INCOMING TRANSMISSION: IDENTITY UNKNOWN.  _

And below it:

_ ~ PRIORITY TWO ; STARFLEET _

Starfleet. Hugh groaned, and for a moment considered dismissing the call and going back to sleep, in his own bed this time. He was exhausted. He’d been dealing with Federation personnel all day. He’d even been in the process of writing yet another detailed account of his experiences when he’d apparently passed out. But it was not in his best interests to ignore this now. All he could hope was that this would be quick.

“Hugh here,” he said, swiping upward on his PADD to put the call through. As he did so, he twisted around in his chair to grab the sweater he had discarded earlier that evening. When he turned back around, a familiar face stared back at him. 

“Geordi,” Hugh breathed.

Geordi looked different, Hugh thought, than the last time he’d seen him. Older. More weathered. He no longer wore a VISOR over his eyes.  _ They’re blue _ , Hugh noticed absently. But he was still recognizable. Still the same Geordi that Hugh had met nearly ten years earlier. 

But Hugh was not the same. He himself was hardly recognizable at all — no longer a drone, no longer dominated by implants and tubing and metal plates. In fact from the chest up, with the exception of the remnants of his metal cortical node, heavy scarring, and a missing eye, he looked almost human.

“It’s really you,” Geordi said. It sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.  _ Who _ he was seeing.

“I—” Hugh stopped. He didn’t know what to say. What  _ could _ he say? His last reunion with Geordi had been after a crisis, a near-death situation for both of them, and there hadn’t been much time for small talk. Hugh had been happy to see him of course, and relieved to find him alive and in one piece. The man’s safety had been the reason Hugh made the choice to help the  _ Enterprise _ crew rescue their people from Lore. He’d put everything on the line — his life, his freedom, as well as the lives and freedom of dozens more — for one human. All because he’d, what? Given him a name? Told him that he was a  _ person? _ It had seemed ridiculous at the time; Hugh, in all his bitterness and anger, afraid of what the future held for Borg who no longer knew who they were. But Hugh was not bitter anymore. He wasn’t angry. Despite all the difficulties he’d faced acclimating to this new life, the last ten years had softened, not hardened, him. And though he was still afraid, still so uncertain about what was to come, he  _ knew _ he made the right decision all those years ago. 

“It’s me,” is all he said, hoping that Geordi might understand that those words held so much more weight than he could ever express. The other’s smile, bright and kind, was enough to tell him that yes, he did. 

“You look different.” Hugh couldn’t help but laugh, and it came out more choked than he expected, for some reason he couldn’t understand. “Sorry, I just, I saw pictures, but I didn’t think…”

“I know,” Hugh said gently, and Geordi’s expression softened. “You look… different, too.”

“I got old,” Geordi corrected, shaking his head. “It’s okay, you can say it.”

“I don’t think so.” And he didn’t, not really. Age has always been an odd thing to Hugh. He’s not even sure exactly how old  _ he _ is. The doctors who performed his de-assimilation procedure had estimated that he was in his early 20s at the time, but it was impossible to tell. “You just look like Geordi.”

Geordi let out a breath, his expression shifting to something… more somber? Was that sadness? Guilt? Hugh was surprisingly good at reading other people’s emotions, but he was having a hard time with Geordi right now. Maybe because he was on the other side of a screen. “It sure is good to see you, Hugh,” he said, and Hugh nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“That’s alright, Geordi,” Hugh replied. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah.” A moment. “So have you. I — I know I never reached out, but I’ve been keeping tabs on what you’ve been up to. Your meetings with Starfleet, negotiations with the Federation about the displaced Borg from your cube, I heard that you met with Captain Janeway last month to talk about  _ Voyager’s _ encounters with the Borg in the Delta Quadrant… I have to say, I’m surprised.”

For some reason, despite the pride Hugh felt as Geordi rattled off his small accomplishments over the last few years, his comment left a sour taste in his mouth. “Why?” he asked, now on edge. “Because you didn’t believe I would get this far? That I would leave the planet, leave the others behind, and pursue a life beyond being just Borg?” His tone turned defensive. “You were the one who taught me there was more than—”

“No, no, hey, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.” Geordi held up his hands, looking incredibly apologetic. “I’m not, I’m  _ impressed _ , I’m not surprised at all that you made it to Earth, or that you’re being… an advocate for yourself, or anything, I just.” He pressed his hands to his face, like he was searching for the right words. “I guess I’m surprised you’d put yourself through it. Starfleet Command can be impossible to deal with — I suppose you know that — and… talking about everything you’ve been through, over and over, I mean, it must be hard.” He sighed. “I think it’s great. I’m really proud, Hugh.” 

Hugh could feel the tension drain from him instantly at Geordi’s explanation. Of course that’s what he meant. He didn’t know how he could’ve doubted him. Geordi — the only person who had believed in Hugh, right from the beginning. Who had defended him, and stood by him, and just  _ knew _ , only from his gut, that he could trust him.

And in return, Hugh had placed his faith in Geordi as well. 

“Thank you,” he replied, still reeling a bit, and back to not really knowing what to say. “It’s just what I have to do. Not just for me, but for all of them. They’re still out there, Geordi, on Oniaka III. Stranded. Helpless. I don’t know if they’re okay, I  _ hated _ leaving them, but I had to. Because if I didn’t come here, nothing would ever change. And maybe I can’t help them, but there are thousands, millions of Borg still out there who  _ do _ need help. Who I  _ can _ save.” He took a breath. “Does that make sense?”

Geordi was smiling. “It does.”

A moment passed. Hugh picked up his PADD and carried it with him into the kitchen. He set it down on the counter. “But enough about me! How are you? How’s life on the  _ Enterprise?” _ He walked over to the replicator. “Coffee.”

“Um,” Geordi began, and there was something in the way he hesitated that made Hugh uneasy, but he didn’t think anything of it. “There was a, um, an incident.” He hesitated, and Hugh turned back to face the PADD, moving closer now so he could actually see Geordi’s expression. “Just, a few weeks ago. We lost Data.”

Hugh gripped the mug tightly in his hand to keep it from dropping to the floor. Of all the things Geordi could’ve told him, this is not what he expected. Hugh hadn’t known Data well of course, but for one thing (and this was probably the most important thing) he had meant everything to Geordi. He knew that, even from the short time he spent on the  _ Enterprise _ , and it was even clearer in what had happened on Oniaka III. Data had been everything that Lore was not. Kind, gentle. Self-sacrificing. 

“Geordi,” Hugh breathed, his heart heavy in his chest. “I’m so sorry. And you let me go on and on about myself, I didn’t…”

The other man shook his head. “No, no, Hugh, it’s fine. I didn’t, um…” He didn’t  _ look _ fine at all. Hugh could see his eyes watering even through the screen, which Geordi quickly wiped away with his sleeve. “I didn’t call to burden you with my feelings after so long. I really did just want to check on you.”

Hugh walked back into the other room and sat down again. “Your feelings are not a burden,” he said firmly, but kindly. “Not to me, and not to anyone else. I won’t press, but if you  _ do _ want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” 

Geordi fell silent. Hugh could tell he was thinking about it. Part of him wanted him to take him up on the offer. He just wanted to be able to help, in some way, to repay Geordi even a little for everything he did all those years ago. And the other part of him hoped desperately that he wouldn’t, because Hugh knew that nothing he could possibly say or do could fix this, and the thought of being helpless to comfort his friend just made him feel worse. 

“It’s alright,” Geordi said, looking down. “It just… it made me realize that I can’t take the people in my life for granted anymore. You know? I always thought… well, Data could’ve lived forever. I always assumed he would outlive me, at least. Despite all the times I almost lost him, there was always a part of me that just  _ knew _ he’d be okay. Because… I don’t know. He was Data. He was always going to be there. No matter what.” He shook his head. “But he’s gone. And I never want to look back and think, ‘gee, I wish this person had been in my life more’. That’s why I called you, I…” He glanced up at Hugh, and smiled sadly. “My friendships mean too much to me.”

Despite the melancholy that permeated the space around him, Hugh’s chest felt light and warm. “So we’re still friends?” he asked, as if he’d been afraid to even mention it until now. And Geordi laughed, which in that moment, Hugh would’ve sworn it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. 

“We always were, Hugh,” Geordi said. “We always will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some end notes, to fill in gaps I didn't care to flesh out in writing...
> 
> \- Hugh's been on Earth for about five years or so. His de-assimilation happened over a long period of time, through various doctors and institutions, some of them more refutable than others. As of right now, his scarring is a lot worse than it is in Picard, and he doesn't have his prosthetic eye yet, so it's just a mess of shoddy skin grafting.  
> \- Primarily, he's been fighting to get Federation citizenship for himself and other xBs. He's given information on the Borg to Starfleet in exchange for even having his case be heard.  
> \- He talks to any and everyone who has some connection to the Borg, so when Voyager returned, he was especially anxious to meet Janeway, Seven, and Icheb.  
> \- He has a tiny apartment close to Starfleet HQ, probably in Oakland. Life isn't great, and he's been dealing with a lot of harassment for being ex-Borg. He tries not to let it get to him, but it's exhausting, as is facing his worst traumas on the daily.
> 
> I think that's all for now. Comments fuel me! Until the next chapter...


	2. 2384

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugh starts his job on the Artifact. Geordi checks in.

The sleeping quarters were bare, and cold, and it was nothing Hugh wasn’t used to already, but he couldn’t help wondering if all Romulans hated homeliness, or if they just didn’t care about him. But then again, this  _ was _ a Borg cube. And the Borg didn’t concern themselves with comfort either.

At least, it had been a Borg cube. It wasn’t anymore. That’s what Hugh kept trying to tell himself — this was the Artifact. The Romulan Reclamation Site. The new home of the Borg Reclamation Project. It was everything he’d been wanting, everything he’d been working towards, for over ten years. And it was the best possible outcome. A whole research initiative funded by Romulans and supported by the Federation, dedicated entirely to the liberation of assimilated Borg. For the first time, the xBs would be able to receive proper medical care, trauma therapy, and whatever support and resources they needed to begin forging their new lives. And he was at the center of it. Executive Director. Whatever good that did.

When he accepted the position, his Federation contacts warned him that although he himself was protected under treaty, the Romulans were unlikely to trust him or give him much real power. They had to respect his authority, but they didn’t have to like it. He worked for the Romulans — they made that very clear, and they made it clearer still that they held him in utter contempt. But it didn’t matter. Hugh didn’t care about politics or his personal relationship with the Romulans. All he cared about was the well-being of his people.

It’s what kept him going as he walked through the long corridors at night, watching over the drones still stored in regenerative stasis. As soon as the facility was up and running and fully staffed, the scientists would begin to wake them. And then the real work would begin.

Hugh’s quarters consisted of a small metal desk and flickering fluorescent lights (the office), and in the adjoining room, a bed, a single chair and table, and a replicator built into the wall (the living area). His PADD sat on the table next to a day old cup of coffee. His clothes (all black, all identical) were folded up neatly in the drawers under the bed. He didn’t decorate — save for a holo-photograph in a frame on the desk. In it, Hugh was laughing, smiling more than he ever had in his whole life, and was being embraced tightly by Geordi La Forge.

It had been nearly three years since Hugh last saw Geordi. He’d been on shore leave from the  _ Enterprise _ , and had changed his plans to go to Risa when he found out that a conference Hugh had been planning to attend on Deep Space 3 had been cancelled. Making the trip to Earth instead, and the pair met face to face for the first time since Ohniaka III. Geordi stayed with Hugh for a week, and at the end of that time, when he was due back to duty, he revealed that he was considering leaving the  _ Enterprise.  _ He’d gotten an invitation to work at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yard, replacing the previous chief engineer. It was an offer he felt like he couldn’t refuse, and as much as he loved the  _ Enterprise _ , things had changed. Riker left a few years before to captain the  _ Titan.  _ Picard had just been promoted to Admiral, leaving Worf in command. It just wasn’t the same. With everyone going their separate ways… and with Geordi still feeling Data’s loss more heavily than anyone, staying just didn’t feel right. He’d expressed all this to Hugh in confidence, conflicted about what to do. 

“The  _ Enterprise  _ is my home, my family,” Geordi had said. “But there’s a hole, and it hurts to be there, knowing that I’m needed somewhere else.”

“Take the job,” Hugh urged him, understanding all too well. “Sometimes you have to leave a part of yourself behind in order to find your heart.” 

“When did you get so wise?” Geordi asked.

“From you,” Hugh answered honestly. And he meant it.

That was the last time they saw each other, but they called nearly every week after that, sometimes more. Hugh told him about the progress he was making with the Federation, about all the xBs around the galaxy he was starting to connect with, and Geordi told him what it was like to oversee the construction of Starfleet’s newest ships, and to work alongside androids again. “Different,” he said, sounding sad. “Strange. But… good.  _ Right. _ ”

After a busy first week of moving, and orientation, and meetings, Hugh called Geordi, settling back against his pillows. “Not much for looks, is it?” Geordi asked, taking in the bare sterile walls of Hugh’s room. “Romulan decor.”

“And Borg,” Hugh reminded him. “This  _ was _ an active cube until a few years ago.”

‘Right,” Geordi said. “Is it weird? Being there?”

Hugh nodded. “Yeah. A little. It’s quiet. Eerie. No one’s started working yet — all the drones are still in stasis. I’m just… anxious to get going. They’re all still wired into the network, you know? We’re separated from the full Collective, but they can all hear each other, even like this. It… it must be terrifying for them.” He closed his eye, shaking his head slightly. “I know it was for me.” When he looked back at the screen, Geordi was staring at him worriedly. “But I’m fine!” he insisted, a little too forcefully. “It’s exciting. I feel really good about this.”

“Yeah? Romulans not giving you too much trouble?”

“Nothing I’m not used to from anyone else.” He shrugged. “They have a high stake in this project, actually. There are a number of their own people who were assimilated on this cube.” 

Geordi’s eyes widened. “Seriously? I didn’t know any Romulans were assimilated.”

“It’s not something they like to talk about,” Hugh said dryly. “But it’s hardly a secret here. At least not to me. But you’re doing okay?” He was good at changing the subject when he didn’t want to talk about himself anymore.

“Oh yeah. Business as usual. You know, I thought I’d miss space travel more, but… I really don’t. I’m still doing what I love. And the ships — I mean, Hugh, you should  _ see _ them! They’re brilliant, they’re so… classy. And powerful. They’re beautiful, really.” Geordi was talking with his hands — you could  _ feel _ the passion as he described the  _ Curiosity-class  _ heavy cruisers. Hugh leaned forward slightly, just listening, his chin resting in his hands. Finally, after a few minutes, Geordi stopped, looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to ramble.”

Hugh smiled. “Don’t be. I like hearing you talk about what you love.”

Geordi nodded appreciatively. “...Thanks. It’s something I got from Data, you know? He was never afraid to talk about his passions, even when other people didn’t care. Everyone found it annoying after a while, but I just loved seeing him so excited.”

“It’s a way of honoring him,” Hugh said. “I think that’s wonderful. You still miss him a lot, don’t you?”

“Every single day.”

“He’d be proud of you.” Hugh hadn’t known the android well, but he knew this much. “I certainly am.”

Geordi’s face lit up — subtle, but impossible to miss. “Thanks, Hugh.”

“You should come visit soon,” he said, glancing into the other room at the photo on his desk. “Once we’re settled in. It’s been too long.”

“It  _ really _ has.” Geordi looked contemplative. “I’m due for some time off in about eight months. If I can get official Starfleet credentials, you think your Romulans overlords will give me clearance?”

Hugh grinned. “As Executive Director, I’ll ensure it.”

“Attaboy.” 

“I’ll call you in a few days, okay? I’m gonna try to get some shut-eye.” As if on cue, Hugh yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. The scars on his cheeks stretched uncomfortably, but he hardly noticed. “Night, Geordi.”

“Goodnight, Hugh.” Geordi waved with one hand. “And put up a poster or something! Your quarters are depressing.” Hugh laughed and waved him off, ending the call. 

Now in the quiet of his room, he sank back into the pillows. Talking to Geordi was always relaxing. Always comforting. It was too easy to get caught up in his thoughts when he was alone, and he found himself wishing he could’ve stayed on the line until he fell asleep. Just to hear the soft intonation of another voice, to have the presence of another person, even through a screen. But he knew he would never ask that of Geordi. His own loneliness was not the other man’s problem. It was just… hard. He’d gotten used to a lot of things since his first separation from the Collective, but the absence of other people, of other voices, never got easier to handle. 

It was hours before he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to get this next chapter up! I just love writing these two. Thanks for reading!


	3. 2385

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geordi pays a visit to Hugh on the Artifact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOO BOY... it's been two months since I last posted, I'm SO sorry! But here it is, and a longer chapter, at that. Special thanks to Hye for being my motivation to get this thing done. I promise the next update won't take this long...

Eight months passed, and for Hugh, they were both the longest and the shortest he’d ever experienced. There was lots to do. In that relatively short amount of time, the Artifact had sprung to life. Hundreds of Borg drones were removed from stasis, and so the Reclamation process began.

It was hard work. Hugh came home exhausted at the end of each day, collapsing on his bed face first and sometimes not even having the energy to eat. And that’s if he  _ didn’t _ have to deal with Romulans too much. But in the end the only thing that mattered was that he had helped even one xB. Some days were easier than others. He hadn’t realized the emotional drain of trying to guide a newly severed drone through their very first semblances of individuality. Sure, he’d spoken to a number of xBs at varying stages of their de-assimilation over the years, and he’d worked much closer with the others on Ohniaka III. But the setting had been different. He’d been around friends. Kin. He’d never felt pressure like this.

More than anything, he had to wonder if this is how Geordi had felt. 

Even at its hardest though, the work was rewarding. He would recall later on that the very first time an xB looked him in the eye and uttered a name separate from their designation was the happiest he could remember ever being. He’d managed to keep it together and professional while he was with them, but the moment he got back to his quarters he’d burst into tears and wept for hours. Geordi had called him at one point, and was immediately concerned, but when Hugh told him the story, even he had gotten a little misty-eyed.

_ “I couldn’t have done it without you.” _ __   
_ “Me? But I wasn’t even there!” _ _   
_ __ “You taught me what to say — you didn’t even know. But everything you said to me that day, a little bit of that gets passed down to every newly liberated drone.”

Seeing the progress they were making allowed Hugh to stay optimistic even when things were at their lowest. And finally, he received the clearance from the Reclamation Site’s Romulan security counsel to allow his friend to board.

Geordi received the beam-in coordinates, and Hugh was there to meet him when he arrived. They both picked up speed when they saw each other, meeting in the middle of the catwalk and embracing tightly. Not proper etiquette for the Director to be greeting a Federation ambassadorial officer with, but no one was around to see. Still grinning and unable to stop, Hugh tossed a hand over Geordi’s shoulder, and began giving him the grand tour.

It was late when they made it back to Hugh’s quarters, and the two men collapsed at opposite ends of the couch upon arrival, out of breath. They were both tired, but their was something in Geordi’s expression that told Hugh he didn’t mind at all. His head tilted to the side and he fixed the man with a piercing stare as he tried to work out what it was his friend was feeling. It came to him suddenly.  _ Joy _ . It confused Hugh. Certainly, there were parts of Hugh’s work that he found joyful, but the whole experience he found to be rather depressing, actually. Even inspiring wasn’t a word he would use to describe the Reclamation Project, although many others certainly would, and had. So it was beyond him what Geordi could possibly be so joyful about. But he never got the chance to ask as the other man pulled him from his thoughts. 

“What’s on your mind?” Geordi glanced down at himself and then back to Hugh. “You’re staring at me. Everything okay?”

“...Yes,” Hugh said, and shook his head to clear it. Geordi leaned forward a little, eyes widening as he  _ fully _ took in Hugh’s appearance under the warm bright lights — so different from the sickly greenish fluorescents that lined the corridors of the cube. “Everything’s fine, I promise.”

“Good, because—” suddenly, Geordi was scooting forward and reaching toward Hugh’s face with his hands. Hugh could only sit there in utter shock as Geordi shifted his hands to cup his cheeks, tilting his head to look at his left eye. “My god. Hugh, your eye! I’m only just now noticing… it looks so real!” He leaned back slightly, one hand dropping, and Hugh felt a rush of disappointment surge through him that he couldn’t explain. 

Still, he grinned good-naturedly. “I wanted you to see it in person,” he explained. “I had it done last week.”

“So you were wearing the eyepatch the last time we called… just to keep it a secret?” 

Hugh raised an eyebrow and gave a small shrug, resulting in both men having another quick laugh. “It really does look wonderful,” Geordi continued, leaning back in a little closer. Hugh felt his breath hitch. “I like the two colors thing,” he added, glancing between Hugh’s natural brown eye and his prosthetic blue one. “Any particular reason, or could you just not decide on one?”

Hugh looked up. Blue eye met blue  _ eyes _ , and the xB gave a smile that was really only for himself. “What can I say? I’m indecisive.”

“Only about eye color, it seems.” Geordi stood up, and looked around the room. “You really didn’t decorate in here after all, huh?”

Hugh shook his head. “Just not my style. But I have started to learn how to cook. Unnecessary, with the replicators, but I find it relaxing.” Geordi looked back over his shoulder at him, raising his eyebrows.

“So you’re going to cook dinner for us?”

“Absolutely. Anything you want.”

Geordi smiled. “Surprise me.”

The following days passed without much excitement, a rarity on the Artifact. Hugh was happy to show Geordi his day-to-day work, and Geordi was equally as excited to learn. He even — with permission — offered a few suggestions for technical improvements here and there, which Hugh accepted gratefully. They were a good team, to the surprise of neither one of them, and it seemed almost absurd that they had never properly gotten to work together over all these years. And this visit, as informal as it was, made Hugh wish he had asked Geordi to join him before he’d ever gotten the offer to go to Mars. Then they wouldn’t be here, having to savor the last few days together before they parted ways again for who knows how long. But time spent apart always makes a reunion that much special. “Maybe I’ll be the one to take a vacation and come visit you next time,” Hugh suggested over dinner, the night before Geordi was supposed to depart. “Come see the Fleet Yards, all the ships you’re building.”

Geordi laughed, that laugh which Hugh found so infectious; the way his eyes creased and his shoulders shook, and he looked downward as if to hide the fact that he was smiling so wide. “Well,  _ I’m  _ not the one building them,” he said. “I oversee the other engineers, mostly. Don’t get the chance to get my hands dirty as much as I’d like.” He fixed Hugh with a stare that made the xB’s face grow hot. “Also, you and I both know  _ you _ will never take a vacation. You’d change your mind before you even got off the ship.”

Hugh rolled his eyes. “Yes, well. My work is the priority while I’m here. No one can replace me if I decide to take a little trip to the Alpha Quadrant for fun. And the Romulans don’t think much of downtime.”

“I know, Hugh,” Geordi reassured. “I’ll see if I can come back in another six months. Make it a regular thing.”

This piqued Hugh’s interest. “You know,” he said thoughtfully. “The Romulans  _ were  _ surprisingly receptive to your coming here. And you were a great help the other day. I wonder if I can’t convince them to let me hire you as an… independent consultant of sorts. With your expertise, we could get you out here for a week every six months, to run diagnostics, help us upgrade some systems — it might give you the excuse on your end too.”

Geordi looked impressed. “You know, Hugh, that’s honestly a really good idea. It sounds like fun.  _ And _ I’d get to see you twice a year, obviously the best part.” Hugh ducked his head and tried not to smile at his empty plate. “I’ll put a word in at HQ and—”

From across the room, his PADD started chirping loudly. A frown crossed his face, and Hugh looked up quickly in concern as Geordi stood and went to get it. He pulled it from his bag and Hugh watched as his friend’s expression went from confused to concerned to panicked to distressed to… nothing, all in a matter of seconds. He sat down heavily on the nearest surface — Hugh’s bed — and gripped the device tightly in his hands, just staring.

After a few excruciating seconds of not knowing what to do, Hugh asked quietly, “What happened?”

Geordi didn’t say anything. Neither of them moved. And then after a moment, Geordi swiped up on the screen, projecting holographic imagery into the air. And Hugh found himself once again at a loss for words.

Flames. And ships — new ships — soaring high above, firing down at the surface of the planet.

Well, not just any planet.

Mars.

And it was on fire.

The video switched to a feed of engineers running, surrounded by flames, only to be gunned down by some unseen assailant. Then the camera cut out, and a newscaster appeared. Silently, Hugh walked over, and switched it off. 

“Who would do this?” he asked, sitting down beside him. Geordi wordlessly passed him the PADD, on which he’d now pulled up a priority message from Starfleet HQ. He didn’t have to listen — the subject was enough.  _ Synthetics Attack on Utopia Planitia, Mars.  _ “I don’t know what to say,” Hugh mumbled quietly, reaching. “Geordi—”

“Don’t, okay?” He stood up, speaking a little too quickly, a little too harshly. “Just—” he glanced at Hugh who was looking up at him with wide eyes. “Shit, Hugh, I’m s—”

“It’s okay,” Hugh assured him quickly. “I’m fine. What do you need?”

The panic was starting to creep back into Geordi’s voice. “I don’t, I don’t know, I’m not… I can’t…”

“Just breathe,” Hugh said softly. He held out a hand. “Come here.”

Geordi looked at him for a moment, then slowly reached out and gripped Hugh’s outstretched palm, and allowed himself to be guided back over. He sat down heavily, and put his head in his hands. Shaking his head slightly, Hugh wrapped an arm around Geordi’s shoulders and just held him close. 

Hugh wasn’t sure how much time passed, how long they sat there. But eventually Geordi’s shoulders stopped shaking, his chest stopped heaving and his breathing eased, and his eyes dried, as if there were simply no more tears left in him. He drew in a shaky breath and leaned away from Hugh enough to look at him. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay.” He looked like he was going to say something else, and then stopped. “I don’t know what to do now,” he admitted. 

“No orders from Starfleet?” Hugh asked. Geordi reached for his PADD and scanned through his messages. 

“Nothing. There are rescue attempts, emergency teams are already out there, but the entire planet is on fire. They haven’t been able to do anything. I can only think of… maybe five other people who were off-world. Everyone else is—” He sighed, and set the PADD down. “I’ve been placed on temporary leave until they can reassign me.”

Hugh frowned. “Is that what you want? To work at another shipyard? Or — go back to serving on starships?”

Geordi looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “I don’t know? It’s only been a few hours! I don’t even have anywhere to go. I don’t have a place on Earth, I guess I could stay with my father, or contact Worf and see if I can—”

“Stay here.” 

“...What?”

“Stay here,” Hugh repeated, calmly. “Just, for now, until you figure out what you’re going to do next, but I mean, for as long as you’d like. I’ll take care of everything here.” He hesitated. “And… if you decide you want to stay, um, for a while, I can—”

Geordi didn’t let him finish that sentence as he threw his arms around Hugh’s neck. He mumbled something akin to ‘thank you’ which was muffled by Hugh’s shoulder. As he pulled away, Hugh kept his arm around him, and they lapsed back into a comfortable, if solemn, silence. 

Eventually, Hugh noticed that Geordi’s breathing had slowed. He glanced to the side to see that he’d fallen asleep sitting up, his head on Hugh’s shoulder. Unsurprisingly, he must’ve completely worn himself out. Hugh didn’t have the heart to wake him up and send him back to his guest quarters, so he very carefully moved his arm and eased him down onto one side of the bed and drew the blanket up over him. He then walked quietly into the other room, sat down at his desk, and began drafting a message to the Reclamation Site’s Romulan Commanders. 

His eyes were bleary by the time he too was too exhausted to stay awake, so he shut his computer down and turned out the lights. He was relieved to see that Geordi was still sleeping peacefully. Hugh walked over and climbed into the other side of the bed. “Everything will be fine, Geordi,” he whispered. “Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO thank you for reading! Comments fuel me! Anyway, stan LaBorg and go read [through the eye of a needle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24675433) by raijuthehyeju.


	4. 2386

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things finally start happening sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said it wouldn't take me two months to update again and then it did take me exactly two months to update? Yeah. Lots of bullshittery in this chapter including me making up stuff about how the Borg retain information they inherit from people they assimilate and also inconsistent pacing, word count, and my inability to write a proper slow burn even though this fic was always intended to just be little snapshots. Anywho, enjoy!

Geordi did stay. An extra week turned into a month, which turned into six months, which was coming up on a year.

A lot had changed.

Geordi never formally resigned from Starfleet, but he left active service, remaining as an official Federation liaison to the Reclamation Project. Perhaps due to his long history with the Borg (and some very strongly-worded proposals from Hugh) it had not been difficult to convince the Romulans. He was an officer in good standing and an engineer of the highest caliber; there was no good reason for them to  _ not _ allow him to stay.

They were both treading into unfamiliar territory as the Project got further underway. The high pressure on Hugh never let up — if anything, it only got harder. He started butting heads with the Romulan commanders, confidence and determination outweighing reservations and fear of inciting conflict. He always managed to keep his cool, one of the things Geordi admired most about him, but he was running on pure adrenaline. Without time to think about how utterly exhausted he was, Hugh just kept moving forward. And he was impressive to watch when he was fully in his element. 

Honestly, there was nothing Geordi enjoyed more than simply sitting back and observing as Hugh talked to the newly Reclaimed. He had a way with words, with  _ people _ , that few people had the opportunity to witness. Most people wouldn’t expect that from an xB, but Geordi knew better. He’d seen Hugh handle the most fragile of diplomatic encounters with grace and competence, and in recent weeks, he even had the opportunity to chat with some of the other Reclaimed himself. Getting to know them was, in Geordi’s opinion, one of the most rewarding experiences of his life so far. Not because they were “inspirational”, not because they “brought a unique perspective” that he could “learn from”, but because he was getting to see something the rest of the galaxy was not privy to — how far they’d come, and how Hugh’s good work was paying off.

But even spending time with the Reclaimed, which was the highlight of the day for both of them, was not without its low points. For every success, there seemed to be twice as many issues; stumbling blocks which kept them from progressing forward at the rate the Romulans demanded. Hugh tried to explain, argued with them for hours, that you can’t put a time limit on recovery from trauma of this magnitude. But the Romulans didn’t care about healing. They cared about physical results only. They wanted a product, a clear sign that the xBs were “normal people again”, former drones who were so unrecognizable as ex-Borg that they could easily be mistaken as ‘unsullied' humanoids from their original species, as people untouched by the Borg and all the implications the Collective's influence left lingering in that trauma's wake.

“Non-Borg is not the default,” Hugh insisted, his words falling on unwilling ears. “None of us are trying to pretend we’re anything other than what we are. We’re proud of our past — not what we did, but what we overcame.”

The Romulans did not agree. “You shouldn’t be,” one of the surgeons insisted. “You should be  _ grateful _ for the work being done here. There are scientists at the top of their fields working on this project. These early experiments have had minimal success, but by the end you people will be fully assimilated—”

Hugh’s face went pale. There was a  _ lot _ to unpack there, but he now found himself at a loss for words. Geordi, beside him, stiffened, and he reached out, squeezing Hugh’s hand fleetingly.

“Hey!” he snapped, taking a step toward the surgeon. She towered a good eight inches over him, but that didn’t seem to intimidate him in the least. “ _ Don’t _ use that word to talk about them. Do you have no  _ consideration _ for what it was like for them to  _ actually _ be assimilated?”

She shrugged dismissively. “That’s what they’re doing, isn’t it? Becoming part of society again?”

“Only if they  _ want _ ,” Geordi said firmly. “That’s the difference. Some of the Reclaimed choose to not return to their original cultures. The concept of assimilation, as they know it, is  _ forced _ . There  _ is _ no choice. Using that term in this context is… insensitive, to say the least. I’d think that someone working directly with them, someone like yourself, would be more conscious of that.”

“And  _ I’d _ think that a Starfleet engineer would stick to his job and mind his own business,” she sneered. Geordi looked like he was about to swing a punch, and Hugh’s fingers quickly closed around his wrist, holding him back with the gentlest of touches. 

“It’s not worth it,” he said quietly, and Geordi didn’t look any more relaxed, but he stayed put. For now. “Dr. T’rolle, believe me when I say I understand your misconception of our experience. There is still a lot our two peoples have to learn about each other. We are  _ all _ grateful for your work here. But we are  _ not _ experiments. If you are interested, I can provide some literature by some of our cultural anthropologists on the history of—”

T’rolle cut him off. “Save it,  _ Executive Director _ . I’m a busy woman. I’ll do my job, and you two, do yours.” She turned on her heel and stalked off.

Geordi turned to Hugh expectantly. “She shouldn’t be anywhere near the xBs,” he said. Hugh smiled bitterly, watching her retreating back.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve already put in a call for her dismissal.”

Of course he had. One step ahead, always. Geordi looked at him, the corners of his lips turned upward slightly, and when Hugh caught his eye, he gave a startled look and smiled back. There was undeniable fondness in Geordi’s expression as he watched him — undeniable fondness which, unsurprisingly, Hugh didn’t notice at all.

But here’s the thing about Hugh. 

He was not an oblivious man. Quite the opposite, in fact. There are people, humans, who claim to be empaths. This, of course, is hyperbole drawing on a common term which refers to someone with the ability to read or sense the mental or emotional state of another person. Human beings do not have this ability. Betazoids do. In fact, lots of species across the galaxy have empathic and/or telepathic abilities. Hugh was neither human nor betazoid, though he did not know this at the time. In fact, he had little interest in finding out what his original culture was. Like many of the xBs Geordi had spoken of to Dr. T’rolle, Hugh only cared about moving forward, not looking back. The xBs  _ were _ his people. And his own feelings on the matter aside, he had very little time to think about his own heritage when he was at the center of creating a culture. The other thing Hugh did not know was that he  _ did _ possess empathic abilities; not in the human sense, but in the real, biological depths of his mind. It was faint, less pronounced than in a betazoid, but still there. And even without knowing he was doing it, that ability informed much of the work he did for the Reclamation Project.

That being said, it took a  _ lot _ for something to slip under his radar.

They had dinner in Geordi’s quarters that night.

This was not uncommon. They took  _ most _ of their meals together, at least when their schedules allowed for it. Neither had very many  _ other _ people to socialize with on the Artifact. Hugh was considerably busier though, and his time constraints had only gotten worse in the last few months. Between keeping a very rigid work schedule for himself (no doubt because if he slowed down, he would just crash) and clearing time to spend with the xB patients (talking, eating, recreation, therapy), he had very little free time to spend with the few friends he did have on board.

Geordi always got priority, and they were virtually inseparable even while working, something they were both grateful for. Hugh’s  _ other _ acquaintances included Elle, the human nurse Hugh had petitioned the Romulans to hire, insisting that there be at  _ least _ one Federation medic involved, and Dhanna, the Romulan diplomat who had helped establish the Cooperative’s relationship with the Romulan Reclamation Site. She was perhaps the only of her kind that Hugh trusted implicitly. Without her guidance, none of this would have been possible. She was rarely around unless she happened to be in the sector, but they talked regularly about the progress he was making, and Hugh was grateful to have at least one ally in a position of power. 

(They hadn’t spoken very much recently, though. In the last year, things got a lot worse for the Romulans, no doubt adding to their hostility, and tensions with the Federation had only grown.)

Another person Hugh kept in regular touch with was Deanna Troi. Geordi had mentioned, shortly after he found out about the project, that she might be a good resource for him. He’d connected the pair, and though it had been a very long time since they last spoke, and Hugh was  _ very _ different, she was nothing but gracious and wonderful. Her wisdom and guidance was welcome, and Hugh found himself turning to her whenever he was having trouble getting through to one of the recently Reclaimed. She had been delighted to hear that Geordi had also taken up post on the Artifact, mainly because it meant she could catch up with them both at the same time. She kept promising that she would come visit, maybe even sit in on a session, just to see all the progress Hugh had made.

That never happened, though. All non-personnel Federation visitors were barred from the Artifact shortly after Starfleet withdrew their evacuation assistance. In retrospect, it was a good thing Geordi came — and decided to stay — when he did.

It was lonely, for both of them. Having each other was the best possible thing that could’ve happened to them though, something Deanna did not hesitate to inform them of on multiple occasions when she and Hugh were on a call and Geordi sauntered in to crash it. They both would laugh, shrug it off, and move on without thinking too much of it.

All this to say, dinner was a regular occurrence. 

There was nothing, absolutely nothing, out of the ordinary about that night. Hugh cooked, like he always did. Geordi played out some music that Hugh had never heard of, like he always did. They ate, and talked, and drank, and laughed, and complained about work, and had dessert, and discussed their plans for the future of the Project, and drank some more — like they always did — and then Geordi got up and started  _ dancing _ because the music was far too upbeat for 2200 hours, but what the hell, he was in the mood. And Hugh, who did not dance, did not  _ know _ how to dance, was pretty sure he had what humans called “two left feet”, and had no interest in  _ trying _ to dance, was pulled up out of his chair by his very good, absolutely platonic, best friend, and joined him.

That’s when things started to get a little different.

They both knew they should be heading to bed. They were getting too old to stay up this late, but neither was particularly tired, and they didn’t have anywhere to be first thing in the morning, so they collapsed next to each other on the couch, shoulders brushing, and Geordi put on a movie. It was something old and Earthen, black and white, and Hugh marveled at the thought that so many centuries ago, humans did not even have simple color films. He continued to rattle off facts about the timeline of other cultures’ film history, which was surprising to say the least. Geordi had never taken Hugh for a film nerd before. But, as Hugh explained it, that information had been assimilated into the Collective along with all the other knowledge an individual possessed. Normally, the Borg discard unimportant facts like what year the andorians developed holographic film projection, but to a young drone, still mentally developing, still adjusting to the vastness of a collective hivemind after being raised in a maturation chamber, it had seemed important. And when, after clinging to his memories after his encounter with the  _ Enterprise _ and his subsequent disconnect from the rest of the Collective, that information, along with other seemingly useless trivia, had stuck. 

So Hugh had other interests besides cooking and studying the development of cultures, and being incredibly smart and compassionate and dedicated and handsome and —

Hugh was still talking, and Geordi realized neither of them had been paying much attention to what was happening in the movie. He made a quip about how they would’ve been better off watching a silent film with music and subtitle cards, which  _ also _ fascinated Hugh, and he started up again, this time talking about accessibility of old media and how someone  _ really _ ought to go back and update them with audio descriptions for anyone who was blind but had opted not to have ocular implants like Geordi did. 

Really, Geordi didn’t care that they were missing the movie. He just liked listening to Hugh talk. He suggested, mostly joking, that maybe Hugh should be the one to take that initiative. He just shrugged and said, “maybe when I’m not so busy.” What a guy. 

About three-fourths of the way through, Hugh turned his attention back to the screen and said, “right, so what’s going on?” Geordi just laughed. He had no idea either. They sat there, instead opting to come up with more and more outrageous plots to fit with the climax of the story, but it was clear that they were both getting tired. Hugh slumped down slightly against the cushions, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to keep himself awake, and without even thinking about it, Geordi slipped an arm around his shoulders. He regretted it an instant later, wondering if he’d just made things weird. But Hugh just leaned more against him, his head dropping onto Geordi’s shoulder, and it was possibly the cutest thing Geordi had ever experienced.

The credits rolled, and he turned his head to say something to Hugh, only to realize he had fallen asleep. He contemplated just letting him stay there, but among other things, he knew his back would hate him for it in the morning. “Hugh,” he said quietly instead, jostling his arm a bit. “Wake up.”

Hugh lifted his head slightly, and then let it drop again. “What?”

“Movie’s over.”

“Okay.” No movement.

“It’s past midnight.”

“Oh.” Hugh sighed and sat up slowly. When he opened his eyes, he seemed to realize the position they’d been in, and his face reddened slightly. “Oh,” he repeated. “Sorry.”

Geordi immediately regretted waking him up. “It’s fine,” he said earnestly. “You were tired.”

“It was the wine,” Hugh admitted sheepishly. “It puts me to sleep.”

“Nothing to do with how much you’ve been overworking yourself?” 

Hugh met Geordi’s eyes, and he looked like he was contemplating a real response, but he just shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“I know,” said Geordi. “You’re like freaking Superman. Completely unstoppable.”

Hugh cocked his head. “I don’t know what that means.”

Go figure, the guy with a galaxy’s worth of film knowledge wouldn’t know his superheroes. “Go get some sleep,” Geordi said.

They both stood up; Hugh stretched his arms above his head, and Geordi rolled his shoulders, and then he walked Hugh to the door. 

Hugh stopped. “Goodnight, Geordi,” he said quietly. “This was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Geordi shuffled his feet slightly. “You need to unwind more.”

“I know,” Hugh said, somewhat bashfully. “It’s hard to relax around here. But, thank you. This was the best I’ve felt in ages.”

_ Huh _ , Geordi thought, realization hitting him.  _ Me too. _

It was the truth. He’d always considered himself to be a laid-back guy. The last person to stress out, the one to keep a level head in a crisis, the solution person. But ever since Mars, he’d been ridden with guilt and anxiety, and he was coming to terms with the fact that, for all his hounding of Hugh to take a break every once in a while, he too had been nearly working himself into the ground just to take his mind off it.

“Hey, Hugh?” he said, with a sudden burst of confidence that he couldn’t place. Maybe it was the relaxed way the xB was standing in his doorway, shoulders back, hands in his pockets instead of folded in front of him, tired smile on his face.

“Yes?” 

Geordi stepped in closer, raised his hands to Hugh’s cheeks, and kissed him. It was brief, light, more like a ghost of a touch, and then it was over, and he rocked back on his heels, and found himself smirking at the slightly bemused expression on Hugh’s face. He waited a moment for Hugh to work out what had just happened, and then the xB was widing one arm around Geordi’s waist and kissing him back. 

“You missed the end of the movie,” Geordi said when they both pulled away again. He was pretty sure he was smiling like an idiot.

Hugh raised his eyebrows. “Let me guess. He got the girl?”

Geordi nodded and laughed breathlessly. “Got it in one.” 

“I figured.”

They both took a step back. Hugh’s hands returned to his pockets. Geordi did the same. “Well,” he said.

Hugh looked at him in solemn agreement. “Well.” 

“Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

“You too.”

Hugh was still smiling. That was a good sign. He raised his hand slightly, not quite a wave, and turned to go. The door slid shut behind him.

Geordi immediately walked over to the table, picked up his padd, and shot off a message to Hugh.  _ Brunch tomorrow? _ Then without waiting for a response, he went back over to the couch and flopped over face-down. 

They would have so much to talk about in the morning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is :) I threw a few mentions of my friends' ocs in there soooo Elle belongs to Kerry and Dhanna belongs to Jeanette. Comments and kudos are of course very appreciated, and while I can't promise it won't be another two months before I update again, I will certainly try.


End file.
